


Death of Duty

by mannyIV



Series: Abandoned [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Death, F/F, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Multi, Murder, Other, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-05 15:44:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5380847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mannyIV/pseuds/mannyIV
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason is an Imperial and a soldier for the Imperial Legion deployed in Skyrim. He finds himself on a prisoner transport to Helgen. Only it doesn't go according to plan. The dragons are back, and if the stories that he grew up on are true, so is the Dragonborn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Everything that you recognize is probably owned by Bethesda. Characters you don't recognize are probably mine.

#### Jason

He just got assigned to a prisoner transport thinking everything would be easy. He hoped that wouldn't be the case. In fact, he asked to get deployed to Skyrim so he can help out in the war. The Stormcloaks were winning even though nobody liked to mention it. He lived for the rush of battle ever since he was a young boy. He always got into fights with the older boys, because he could never really keep his mouth shut. He usually lost those ones. When he did, he didn't really care. It earned him some respect and he always got a couple good hits in. But when he won...when he won against those older boys, nothing could knock him off his pedestal. He would feel amazing, even though he probably looked like shit considering the beating he sustained through the fight. But it was the best feeling in the world. That moment when he conquered something, no one can take that moment from him. 

That's how his lifes been since the start. Growing up without a family makes you grow up fast. It taught him how to hide, how to steal, how to fight. He even had to kill once. He wasn't proud about it, in reality he never was, but it was either him or the other guy. It's a good thing they other guy didn't see the kitchen knife he stole from that old lady's house on the corner. Or else who knows what would've happened that night. 

Growing up without a sense of purpose and everyone telling you you won't amount to anything really starts to beat you down. He knew that because he had no family, he most likely won't get a job. Plus, most of the people in his small little town knew him and didn't want a troublemaker working for them. He was an honest worker though, the one job he had before the Imperials showed up was good work. All he really did was clean up after people in a tavern. He barely got paid anything but drunk people were barely capable of finishing their food and would even sometimes give him some septims. He also saw a lot of weird people and heard many a strange tale from the drunkards, bards, and travelers that were _just passing by._ Tales of dragons, of trolls, giants that would raise mammoths like they were sheep, lizards the size of buildings, and even people that could fly. He never put much merit into any of them. So he couldn't really hate the job, it had it's perks. 

But when the Imperials came in looking for recruits...saying that they would travel over Tamriel, and protect the people, he bought into it. Thinking maybe I can see if those stories held truth to them, and getting into a couple battles sounded just as fun as anything else. So he decided to enlist. Not the worst mistake of his life. They barely traveled anywhere, matter of fact he never left Cyrodil until he asked to got to Skyrim. _You want to go to Skyrim? Want to fight a losing war?_ When they asked him that, it first time he heard that they were losing this war. Still, he nodded both times and even gave a little smug smile when the approved his request. Although it was wiped off his face once their disappointment was clearly expressed on their faces. It didn't matter though, he was going to travel somewhere else and fight in a war. Very honourable if you asked him. He couldn't be more wrong.

So that's how he ended up here in Skyrim. _A boy who wanted to play at war._ Since he's been here, he's seen and done a few _dishonorable_ acts. Stabbing a Stormcloak in the back. Watching a village get slaughtered. Almost watching a village girl get raped. _She couldn't have been more then sixteen._ Even though his officer said she really wanted it, but was just playing hard to get. He knew she wasn't. But man was his officer mad when he stopped him. So mad in fact that he tried to killed her. But he wasn't able to. _Because I ran him through with my sword._ Only to find her later, beaten and raped by a few other soldiers. That's the first time he truly hated people. He was just so angry. So that's why he pretended he didn't know what happened to the when the officer found them all dead in a ditch later that night. _Got what they deserved._

The next thing they came across was a prisoner transport that just captured a few Stormcloaks and the great Ulfric Stormcloak himself. They came across the transport and his commanding officer told him to join the transport on their way to Helgen. So, he saddled up and joined them. Wanting to see who was in the carriage, he trotted his horse up to it. He saw two guys and one girl dressed in full Stormcloak armor, another guy dressed in green robes that looked way too fancy for a prisoner, and three more guys and two more girls, all dressed in rags that barely looked intact. But none of them held as much attention as the man in the back. Ulfric Stormcloak by all means was a dangerous man. The story going around is that he killed the High King Torygg by tearing him apart with his words. It must of held some truth to them since they had him gagged up and fully restrained. How they managed to capture him, he would never know.

The trip to Helgen was a boring one. Nothing interesting besides the usual prisoner struggle. When they got to Helgen, he saw General Tullius talking to some tall guy in a black cloak lined with gold trimming and goldish, blonde hair that ran about shoulder length. 

It took him a second to recognize that, dressed in the robes, was an Altmer and actually, in fact, a female. When the transport passed by, it was easier to see that her features were clearly feminine. It was also easier to recognize that she was a Thalmor. He would see them during his patrols while he was still in Cyrodil. He then recognized all the other High Elves that stood guard by her. _Guess it's someone important._ Curious as he was, he stayed with the transport til they came into a courtyard where they stopped the carriage by a few other ones and had all the prisoners file out. He saw a Redguard, a few Imperials, several Nords, and even an Argonian. _He's a long way from the Black Marshes..._ Officers started to call out names and bring prisoners forward. He glanced to the side to see General Tullius riding up to the block in the middle of the courtyard. His hair was grey, face was stern, and armor was a bright gold, with the Imperial Legion sigil imprinted on the front.

General Tullius was well known. Sent to Skyrim by Emperor Titus Mede II to stop the Stormcloak uprising. His eyes scanning the prisoners while he dismounted his horse and stood facing them, eyes staring at one in particular.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero, but a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne. You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace. Legate Talia, read the names."

A middle aged woman, wearing full officer gear without her helmet, stepped forward. Her brown hair ran to just about her jawline. Her green eyes cold and calculating, stared at just about every prisoner before her. Then, she looked at a piece of parchment paper.

"Andalise Briser"

A prisoner stepped forward from the group. Her red her cut close to her head, shaved almost. She was a Nord woman, tall and strong looking in her Stormcloak armor. Not an ounce of fear showed on her face. She walked straight towards the block, got on her knees with her head hanging off of the other side. She didn't say anything and didn't move as the executioner walked to the block, pulled his axe up, and separated head from body in one swing. Two legionnaires walked to her body and picked it up, throwing on the floor to the side of the block. One of them then proceeded to kick her head into the body, while a smirk played across his face.

_I hate him already,_ Jason thought.

"Brewyck Movor"

Another Stormcloak soldier stepped out of the line. He was also a Nord. With blonde hair that fell to about his shoulder blades. He was the tallest of the prisoners, standing at seven foot, six inches. And he was built with muscle. It was almost like a Giant was walking to the block. _Only thing he's missing is a club and a herd of mammoths._ He had to kneel farther away from the block so he could slouch and lay across it, his thick neck resting over the other side of the block. Just like the woman, he didn't flinch when the executioner came to take his head. Only this time, when the axe came down, it only got about two thirds through his neck. He started coughing and spluttering blood along the floor as the executioner pulled the axe free and brought it down again. This time, the head rolled off and next to the woman's dead body.

The same two legionnaires came to move the body, but found themselves struggling to do so. Legate Talia then ordered a third to help. As soon as the third legionnaire got there, one of the other prisoners, an Imperial, dressed in rags with his hair completely shaved off, broke away from the group and ran. 

"Archers", the Legate shouted. 

Two archers, standing upon the castle walls, nocked arrows and pulled their bowstring back before aiming at the escaping prisoner.

"Loose" 

Simultaneously, the arrows were flying and found purchase in their target. One in the left shoulder blade, the other in the back of the head. Then, Legate Talia turned her eyes back towards the group of prisoners. 

"Anyone else?" 

No one said anything or moved. But by this time, the legionnaires were able to move the Nords hulking body out of the way and pile onto the other body. Then, the original two went to recover the body of the dead run away. Legate Talia then looked back down at her list. 

"Merrick Fath" 

No one stepped forward. The Legate eyes hardened and she took a step towards the prisoners. 

"So, somebody doesn't want to lay claim to their name now, huh?" 

One of the prisoners, another Imperial said, "You already killed him." Then he proceeded to tilt his head to the direction of the dead body being dragged to the pile.

"How do you know that was him?"

He looked back at her and spoke, his voice oddly calm. "He was my brother, Legate." 

She looked back at her list, eyes scanning the paper, then her gaze fell back on him.

"Derrick Fath?"

He answered with a quick nod. 

"I heard about you two", the Legate said, "two brothers that thought they were too good for the Legion. So they deserted and sold information to the Stormcloaks." She took a few steps towards him so they were now just inches apart. "Now tell me...how's that working out for you?"

Derrick just stared at her. After a few moments of silence, "Best decision I've ever had."

"Well, we don't give turncloaks an honorable death." She then turned to a passing group of legionnaires. "You three, take this traitor to the dungeons. Have the torturer do whatever he deems fit to."

The group came towards the prisoner, the first legionnaire punch him in the gut. Causing him to fall to the floor and curl into himself. The second grabbed him by his hair and pulled him to his knees, then proceeded to grab one arm while the third grabbed the other. Then they dragged him across the floor into one of the castle towers that would lead them down into the castle and eventually to the dungeon. 

Jason felt sick just watching it. _These fucking bastards are cruel as hell._

His his disgust must have been evident on his face, because then the Legate turned her attention towards him. 

"Something wrong soldier?"

Instead of answering, he just continued to stare at her. It must of aggravated her more because she started to take steps toward him. Looking and sounding like she was stomping her feet the whole way.

"I asked you a question soldier."

"Yes ma'am, I believe you did", was his reply. Her face grew almost as red as a tomato. Her steps grew quicker her fists tightened into balls at her sides and her jaw clenched. The list of names fully forgotten and now on the floor. _Guess that was the wrong answer._

"I believe I did too soldier, and next time I ask you a question, you answer it! And the next time you decide to tell me what you believe in, I'll have you drawn and quartered! Do you understand me!"

"Yes ma'am", he was able to get out through his clenched teeth. 

"Right now, I want you to-", she was cut off by a loud roar from somewhere in the mountains around them. Everyone must have heard it because everybody was looking towards the mountains. 

"What was that?", one of the prisoners asked.

It was the Argonian prisoner who voiced this question. His clothing could only be classified as rags. Only covering half of his torso, and from his hips to his knees. They were covered in mud and so was his entire left arm. His green skin was so dark it looked like mud had covered his entire body. His face a shade lighter then the rest of himself. Where his yellow, snake-like eyes stared off into the distance over one of the many mountains around Helgen.

"It doesn't matter what it was, Legate Talia, get one with the executions." General Tullius was now standing in the middle of the courtyard by the chopping block. The Legate then gave Jason one last threatening stare, then walked back to the block, picking up her list on the way. She looked at the next name, then broke into a smile and looked at the group of prisoners. 

"Ulfric Stormcloak"

This causes General Tullius to move his attention to the man mentioned. It also caused the remaining four Stormcloaks to step forward as to shield their leader. The Legate and the two legionnaires next to her all drew their swords. Jason could also hear a bowstring being pulled back from on top of the castle wall behind him.

The Legate smiled, and then said "I will happily come get you myself."

But before a fight could break out, Ulfric stepped forward himself, pushing his soldiers behind him and shaking his head. He stepped towards the block and, yet again, another roar sounded through the sky. Like thunder rippling through the clouds. Soldiers started to look as uneasy as the prisoners were. Swords were drawn, arrows nocked, and shouting could be heard from the other side of the castle. 

"General! General!"

They all turned to see a soldier running across the courtyard towards them. Fear etched across his entire face, and his hand that was wrapped around his sword was trembling. 

General Tullius and the Legate ran to meet him half way, while Jason looked behind him to she what he was running from. They sky started to darken and the wind picked up. Imperial Legion banners flapping roughly in the wind, some torn off the castle completely.

"What soldier? Spit it out!", Tullius yelled.

The soldier, still running towards them, cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled. 

"Dragon!"

Then there was a dark shadow crossing over the sky, large enough to take up the entire courtyard. Then there was a bright light coming towards them. Fire. It cut through the middle of the courtyard. In order to avoid getting caught in the spray, Jason rolled to his right, towards a tower that stood tall against the castle walls. 

Then there was screams. And all he could do was run.


	2. Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helgen is being attacked. Jason must find his way out of the castle, all the while Stormcloaks, prisoners, and other Legionnaires are trying to do the same thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anything you recognize is most likely owned by Bethesda.

#### Jason

He ran through the courtyard. Towards one of the castle towers near him. Others had the same thought. He got pushes to the side by another legionnaire running the same way. He ran by an archer that was shooting arrows into the sky. Jason wasn't exactly sure what he was shooting at or what was happening, but his gut told him to reach safety. He could hear the wood burn as the buildings around him caught on fire. He could hear the screaming of soldiers, men, women, and children. But right now, he had tunnel vision for the tower and the tower only. Where he could see people, soldiers and prisoners and civilians alike, funneling into it. He didn't remember there being this many people here in Helgen. 

When he made it to the tower, the legionnaires were shutting the door. He barely had time to squeeze by. The person behind him wasn't as lucky though. The banging on the door could be heard throughout the first floor of the tower. 

Men were arguing. Women and children crying. Soldiers trying to fortify the door and control the civilians. There were more prisoners here on this floor then there were soldiers. And Jason realized that really quick. _It's going to be a blood bath._ Unfortunately, not all the soldiers had the same thought. Across the room one of the prisoners, an Orc, grabbed a soldiers sword and tore it from its sheath. It then found it's way through the soldiers body after that. 

Jason drew his sword as he saw the orc kill another guard. While another prisoner, a Stormcloak, picked up that dead Imperial's sword. On Jason's left, a prisoner was using his shackles to strangle the guard next to him. Immediately, Jason turned towards the stairs and broke into a run. 

One of the prisoners, a Nord, decided to cut his path off. He soon found Jason's sword protruding from his back. Withdrawing his blade, Jason continued his way towards the stairs. A Stormcloak then stepped in his way and swung a sword at his head. He ducked and sweeped his sword through the Stormcloak's abdomen, slicing his left side through to the spine, almost cutting the man in half, all the while only barely slowing down. 

When he made it to the stairs, he took them up three at a time. Making it to the second floor while more legionnaires rushed to the bottom. Not acknowledging any of them, Jason continued on to the top of the tower. There he found three archers shooting up into the sky. He then looked up and saw what was happening. 

A dragon, black as night, as big as two mammoths, was flying through the sky. Unleashing fire onto one of the castle walls. The archers from that wall screamed as the flames engulfed them, cooking them inside their armor.

He turned around and found a table and a chest at the other end of tower. Rushing over there, he saw that on the table were some grilled leaks, fish, and two cups of mead. Sheathing his sword, he walked over to the chest, opening it once he was close enough. Inside he found an Imperial bow and a quiver of about twenty steel arrows. He strapped the quiver to his back, and gripped the bow in his hands. Then he turned and walked back to the other side of the tower where the archers were still standing. 

He looked over the side of the tower and found what he was looking for. The two story building was half in flames before him. It was originally a tavern but what converted into a barracks for the soldiers since there wasn't enough room due to the hefty amount of prisoners in Helgen. The roof was entirely made of straw. _Some cushion for my landing._ He then walked back to the table and took a bite of the grilled leak, fish, and then a sip of the mead. That's when he heard the commotion from the stairs. 

The orc that he had seen earlier emerged from the top, with an Imperial officer helmet on his head, his chest bare with blood spattered all over it. His breeches were in a similar condition. He held two Imperial swords, slick with blood from pommel to the point of the blade. A smile across his face, showing his yellow teeth that also appeared to have blood on them. A few more prisoners followed him up shortly after. The archers now faced them as well, all three with arrows nocked and ready. 

The orc's smile only broadened at the sight. 

"I'm am Oric", he said, "and this tower is mine."

_Well then..._ Jason turned around and downed the rest of the mead in the first cup, then the second. _To ease my fall._

When he turned back around, the first arrow was fired. It killed a Stormcloak prisoner to the right of the Orc, who then charged the archers. The second arrow hit a prisoner that was just coming up the stairs. The third flew straight towards Oric, who ducked his head at the last second causing it to fly over the tower. The archers didn't have time to fire anymore arrows, so they threw their bows down and drew their swords. 

Jason, however, did have time to nock an arrow. The first person that approached him got one straight into the chest. The second person was another Stormcloak prisoner. The woman swung an axe down at him, hoping to slice him in two straight down the middle. He sidestepped and swung his bow at her head, smacking her clear across the face, which then caused her to stumble backwards. Jason had seen his opening at that moment. Ducking under her next swing, he ran past her and towards the edge of the tower. Once there, he jumped.

The straw roof came to him faster then he thought it would. When he hit it, he went straight through and onto the second story floor. When he rolled over to look at his surroundings, he realized again, that the building was on fire. Quickly, he got up, stumbling around a little bit but grabbed onto a bookshelf to steady himself. From there he found the stairs that led to the first floor, which he soon found out was not occupied. As he was looking for the door, the stairs behind him then started to collapse. As soon as he found the door, the ceiling started to collapse. So he made a break for it. 

When he emerged from the building, he keeled over in an attempt to catch his breath. In front of him was a tiny puddle of water that had poured out from the water barrel next to it. Looking at his reflection, he realizes that he somehow lost his helmet, which now put his close cropped, black hair on display. With his brown eyes staring back at him, he was able to see that he had a cut running down the left side of his face, from the top of his temple to his cheek bone, which didn't look all that different from the scar across his right cheek. But the blood from the cut covered his left eyebrow in blood and the top of his cheekbone as well. He had also lost his bow and most of the arrows had fallen out of the quiver, leaving him with only five. 

He must have been more in a daze then he thought he was, because the next thing he knew, someone is grabbed him by the arm. He spun around, pulling one of his fists back in order to deal some damage, but stopped short when he realizes it's only a little kid. Whose trying to tell him something but it's hard to understand him because he's crying. So Jason just tells the kid to follow him and he grabs his hand and begins running towards the castle's keep. 

When they make it inside, they realize that they're not the only ones there. Just pass the main doors, there's five legionnaires, a man, and the Argonian prisoner from the courtyard. 

"Dad!", the little kid yells and then runs towards the man, who quickly wraps him up in his arms. 

The man looks at Jason, "I can never repay you for bringing my son back to me."

"Don't worry about it."

"Hey, who are you?", one of the legionnaires walks up to him and asks.

Eyeing him for a second, he replies "Jason, you?"

The man extends out his arm, "Hadvar"

"Great to know you're making friends Hadvar but we need to get out of here", one of the other soldiers tell him.

Hadvar turns around and starts rummaging through a corner of the room. "I know what I'm doing Berver, don't question me." The soldier looks ready to retort but Hadvar suddenly turns around and holds up a key. "Follow me gentlemen."

Without another word, all the others follow him down a corridor deeper into the keep. Jason stands there for a moment before he feels a tug on his sleeve. 

"You coming with us?"

It's the little boy from earlier, the man is with him also, looking at Jason curiously. 

Before anything else can transpire, the boy speaks up again. "You should come with us. You're brave and you saved me. Please come with us. Please!"

Jason just looks from the boy to his father, who just shrugs and smiles. Jason then looks back at the little boy. His blonde hair is short and dirty, his blue eyes stare up pleadingly. And he keeps saying 'please' over and over again like it's a mantra. 

"Ok, I'll go with you." 

The little boy smile up at him, then runs back to his father who takes his hand and leads him down the tunnel. With nowhere else to go, Jason just follows them, noticing how the little boy looks back periodically as if he'll disappear. Soon enough, they catch up to the rest of the group, who appears to be stuck at some gate. 

"I thought you said the key would work."

"It will, I just have to hit the sweet spot."

"How about you just give me the key and let me do it."

"Here you go then...it's not gonna change anything just 'cuz you're doing it."

Berver takes the key from Hadvar, then proceeds to put the key in the lock and jiggle it around a bit. A loud click is heard, and then Berver twists the key, successfully unlocking the gate. He then pushes it up and walks through. 

"See, you just need that magic tou-"

A sword is thrusted into his stomach, then dragged up and yanked back out. While Berver's body falls to the ground, a Stormcloak figure takes his place. Behind him are five more Stormcloaks, two to his left and three to his right. Which then puts them at six Stormcloaks versus five legionnaires, not counting the man, his son, or the Argonian. Odds in favor of the rebels. Which three of them have Imperial swords, one has an iron axe, the other having an iron mace, and the last having a long bow. The archer let loose an arrow that immediately killed a legionnaire on impact, hitting him right in the eye. Then the rest of them charged.

The first one to approach him swung his sword in a high arch, hoping to come down against Jason's shoulder. But he just stepped into the Stormcloak and grabbed the wrist holding the sword, stopping it midair. Then Jason stabbed up with his sword, cutting into his attackers head just below the jaw, which then went through his head and out the top of his skull. Pulling it out, he then faced the rest, the archer had shot another arrow into a legionnaire's shoulder, who was now fighting the Stormcloak that held the mace. Hadvar had killed one Stormcloak and was engaging another. One of the other legionnaires was dead on the floor, head lopped off. But now, the Argonian had a sword and was fighting a Stormcloak himself. _Four versus four now._ But he didn't have time to think about it because he was under attack again. 

This one swung his axe from the bottom to the top, like an uppercut. Jason jumped back in order to dodge his swing. The axe then came down towards his right shoulder, which he blocked with his sword. What he wasn't expecting was the punch to the face. It sent him stumbling backwards, where he tripped on a loose stone in the floor and fell back. Luckily he did, because an arrow had just flew right over his head. He didn't have time to react to that because the axe was already being swung down at him. He kicked his left foot up to stop the motion of the Stormcloak's arm. Then he slashed his sword at his leg, which made contact with the knee and separated it from the leg. The rebel gave a shout of pain and then fell to the floor. Which Jason then got on his knees over him and drove his sword into his chest. 

His victory was short lived though, because an arrow found a way into his left shoulder. He gave a grunt of pain and then fell over due to the impact. He looked over and saw the archer nocking another arrow aimed in his direction, so he grabbed the dead body next to him and pulled it over him, shielding him from it. He heard the thump from the arrow connecting with the body, then he glanced around the room again. 

The Argonian had killed the Stormcloak and advanced on the archer, who, unfortunately for him, had shot his last arrow and pulled out his steel dagger. Hadvar had killed the other Stormcloak and was now fighting the last one who had killed the other legionnaire. The boy was hiding under a table while his father, _Damn, just my luck._ The arrow that had sailed over his head earlier, found purchase in the chest of the boy's father. 

_Of course, I cheat death and someone else pays for it._

He looked back for the archer, who was now dead on the cold stone floor, while the Argonian walked behind the last Stormcloak and stabbed him in the leg, which brought him to his knees. Hadvar then sealed the deal by stabbing into him at the top of his shoulder and through his body. Then the Argonian looked at Jason, and then the arrow sticking out from his shoulder. 

"I gotta take that arrow out of you."

_I know that._ "I'll do it myself."

The reptile gave him a quick nod and then started taking off the armor from the archer. Hadvar noticed and didn't seem happy about it. 

"What are you doing?"

Not looking back, the Argonian replied, "Putting on his armor."

"Why?", Hadvar asked.

_Why else._

"This castle is filled with people who want to kill you legionnaires, and instead of me just running around with these rags on, I rather have some armor that didn't make me look like a target", was his reply.

_He's smart, maybe a little too smart._ Jason grabbed the shaft of the arrow that was in his shoulder. Hoping it wouldn't break, he pulled it out with a grunt. Looking at a fully intact arrow in his hand, he let out a sigh. _At least I won't have an arrowhead stuck in me._

"At least you won't have an arrowhead in you."

He looked at the Argonian, who was now dressed in full Stormcloak armor except the helmet. "Thanks, I would've never known."

A smile broke across his scaled face. "Glad I can help out those in need." Then he walked down a corridor and out of their sight. 

_I'm might just kill that fucking lizard._

Hadvar was now changing out of his Imperial armor and into a Stormcloak's as well. 

_Might as well as join them._ Then he reached for the dead Stormcloak next to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and tell me what you think.


	3. Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason, Hadvar, and the Argonian are all dressed in Stormcloak armor so they can escape Helgen easier. Jason remembers the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything you recognize is probably owned by Bethesda.

#### Jason

He really doubted he was bleeding out, but it sure felt like he was. They had followed the corridor down deeper into the castle. It led them down deeper into the castle's keep. They came across a storage room where they found two more prisoners eating away at the food there. They didn't want to share the food so...well they can't eat anymore. After that room was clear, Hadvar went back to go get the little kid, whose name was Haming. They grabbed as much food as they could, feeding Haming while doing so. Then they left through another door that took them even farther down into the keep. 

The wound from the arrow he had taken did not help much when he was fighting. And one of the Legion soldiers from the storage room had bashed their shield against that same arm. So, he could say that he was in a fairly large amount of pain. 

As they traveled deeper into the keep, they came across the dungeons. In truth, they could hear the screaming coming from there as soon as they entered the corridor from the storage room. 

After a quick debate, Hadvar decided to stay there with Haming while Jason and the Argonian decided to go check out the dungeon. As the walked down the stairs that led them there, the screaming had gotten louder, until it suddenly stopped. Sharing a glance with the Argonian, they both crept around the corner. When they turned that corner, a gruesome sight laid before them. 

In the middle of the room, were two ropes hanging from the ceiling. Which hung down like nooses. On the floor under each noose, we're chains that only stretched so far in any direction. Now the horrible part, was that there was a person hanging by those ropes and chained to the floor. 

There was a wrist tied to each rope and an ankle chained with each shackle. The person before them was hanging up, with his body spread out like the letter X. Various chunks of skin was cut from his body. Some in certain shapes while some were just random patterns. Some of the man's fingers were gone, he had about five fingers left between each hand. On closer inspection, the fingers that he did have were cut down the middle of them, with the bones pulled out from them so that they just hung like flaps of skin. Seven toes had be cut off as well, four from the left foot and three from the right. Each finger and toe was cleaned and then laid on the table just to the right of the body. On the table, there was also a tongue, one eyeball, and another body part that Jason hoped wasn't what he thought it was. But looking at the dark bloodstains that turned half of the man's breeches a dark red, he was pretty sure that it was. It was then that Jason realized that it was the traitor from the courtyard. Derrick Fath. As they walked around his body to get to the other side of the room, they realized there was a name carved into his back. _Stevron._

From the other side of the room they heard a sound like someone whistling. When they got there, they saw someone cleaning and putting away tools. Torture tools. A hand on his arm stopped Jason dead in his tracks, and he turned to look at his companion. 

"This one's mine", the Argonian whispered to him. 

With a nod, he watched the Argonian creep up behind the man, most likely Stevron, and grab him with both hands around the head. Then with a sharp twist, the torturer dropped dead to the floor. 

Without turning around he said, "You should go get the others. I'll wait here."

Turning to go get the others, Jason caught another sight of Derrick just hanging there. Drawing his sword, he cut down the body. He then turned back to the Argonian who was searching through the tortures stuff. 

"Find something to cover this body with."

"Sure."

When he came back down with Hadvar and Haming, the body still laid there, uncovered. 

"I thought I told you to cover him." Turning towards them, the Argonian had a smirk on his face and just shrugged.

"Oops. Must have slipped my mind."

_I swear to all the divines, I'm going to kill him._

Walking towards him, Jason's fists and jaw clenched. That was when the Argonian turned around and tossed something to him. Catching it, he recognized it was a lock pick. 

"For the door over there." The tilt of his scaled head was the only indication of where 'there' was. 

Now walking towards the door, Jason set to picking the lock. He was fairly good at it, having done it since he was a little boy. He used to always sneak into houses and steal food and other valuable, which he later sold so he could by things he needed. Like food, or a dagger. 

One time after work, when he was fifteen, he was caught going through the kitchens of one of the houses. He was searching through the pantry, when he heard a sqeak from behind him. Turning around, he saw a girl standing in front of him. She looked like she had just gotten up, to get some water. _Which I'm sure she did since it was past midnight already._ She was staring at him with fear in her eyes, then she turned her gaze towards his hand and took a step back. He remembered looking at his hand to see that he had his dagger drawn, quickly he put it on the table and looked back to girl. It was then that he saw how beautiful the young girl was. Her black hair, which he assumed it was black because it was so dark in that house, ran past her shoulders. Her pale skin glowed in the darkness, all the while her white nightgown had accented her body well. 

He had never seen this girl before. He was sure of that. He would have remembered if he had. Which didn't make sense, because over the time of his life, he's been at just about everywhere in the village at just about every point of time of day or night. Which is why it shocked him to see her now. 

It shocked him even more when she opened the drawer next to her and drew a knife on him. It was so unexpected, and she was still so beautiful, that he laughed. Which he had to quickly quiet down so he didn't wake her parents. Him doing that caused her to take a brave few steps forward, knife still firmly pointed at him, and narrow her eyes. Which he was now able to tell were a bright blue despite the lack of light, which he cursed at. He quickly raised his hands above his head like he was surrendering. 

"You move and I'll scream." Her voice was soft and demanding, drawing him in. All he could do was nod. 

"Put your knife on the floor and kick it to me." Again her voice drew him in, but he had a mouth that couldn't exactly stay shut. 

"But I can't move princess."

Eyes narrowing, she then gave him permission to do what she said. And he did with little hesitation or second thought. She picked it up and took a few steps closer, knife still pointed at him.

"Why are you here?"

He could now see her body more clearly behind the thin nightgown she wore. It still had to mature in order to look like some of the tavern wenches he would see at work, but it was no less attractive. He was able to see bare skin from her feet to about mid-thigh, which probably felt as silky and smooth as they looked. Continuing his gaze upwards, he was able to see the spread of her hips and the narrowness of her waist. Still further up, he was able to see the outlines of her breasts, still small but no less enticing. Finally, his gaze fell back on her face where he saw a dark spot on her cheek and a confused frown, which confused him as well.

"Why are you here?"

It took him a moment to realize she had asked him a question. 

"I-uh...I was-uhm...I was looking for...for food. I was looking for food."

"Can you talk right or do you not know how too?"

Even though he was a little offended, he was liking this girl more every second. "Yes."

"Yes? Yes what?"

"Yes I can talk." He realized his hands were getting sweaty and he could feel a blush heating his cheeks. Now he was glad for the little light in the room. 

"Well good, now tell me why you're here."

"I just told you why princess."

Her eyes narrowed once again at the name and she took another step forward, just one more and she'd be an arms length away. "Don't call me that. I'm not a princess."

"You look like a princess", he quick retort had caught her off-guard. _Good,_ he thought.

"What makes you say that?" 

"Well, I don't think I've ever seen a more beautiful girl", he could see the disbelief spread across her face, "so I was thinking, she just has to be a princess." 

He smiled at her then, hoping to get her to relax and maybe put the knife down. _Or so I can get a little closer._

"Well I'm not a princess so don't call me that."

"Well you're my princess sweetheart." He could see her getting frustrated, but the knife did lower some, and that was good. She then pointed the knife away from him and at the table to his right.

"Go to the table and light that candle."

_Gladly,_ he thought, _I'll be able to see you better._

He smiled at that prospect, which causes her to take a nervous step back and raise the knife towards him again.

"What?"

He just shook his head, "Nothing princess", and proceeded to do as he was told. 

"Are you gonna keep calling me that." Lighting the candle, he then turned to face her.

"Would you rather me call you gorgeous?" Now he could see the pretty flush that invaded her cheeks at the compliment. He could also see that the dark spot from before wasn't just her skin. But a bruise. "What happened to your face?"

"Nothing." She turned away from him quickly, lowering the knife to the floor. When he took a step towards her, she spun back on him with her knife raised again. "I didn't tell you to move." 

"Sorry", he stopped dead in his tracks, not wanting to see if she would fulfill her earlier promise of screaming, "but what happened to my face."

"I fell", she said quickly. To quickly to be considered the truth. 

"Come on princess, you don't have to lie to me." 

"Stop calling me that", he could see the tears in her eyes now. But what really hit him was the broken "please" a moment later.

"I sorry, I won't call you that again." A tear had ran down her cheek then, furiously she wiped it away like she loathed it's existence. Cautiously he took another step forward, which was apparently not noticed by her. 

"What happened?"

"It doesn't matter."

"If someone hurts you, it does matter darling."

"Don't call me that either." This too, was quickly out of her mouth before he could react. 

_Well then..._ "What's your name then?"

She hesitated, he could tell. But she still told him. "Lyra."

"That's a really pretty name." He caught the little pink flush that rose to her cheeks again, which made her all the lovelier. But this time, he also saw the little upturn of her lips. _Those beautiful, full lips._

"Thank you, I really like it. My mother named me."

"Does your she know that 'you fell'?" He made air quotes at the 'you fell' part.

"No", the water in her eyes was back, "she died when I was little." He immediately felt bad. 

"I'm sorry, I never knew my mother so I don't know what that feels like."

"It's okay." The tears didn't fall this time and her eyes did dry up some.

"Does your dad know you got hurt?" That's when he saw it. The fear that was reflected across her face. He's grown up with enough orphans and heard enough stories to understand what he saw. He used to have a friend, Hamlet, who had a little brother that was just shy of eight at the time. Hamlet was eighteen then, and he had told a younger Jason, only twelve, that he had actually killed their father because he would beat them. Which is why Hamlet and his little brother, Mychael, had to run from their old town and to his small village. Jason would never forget the fear in little Mychael's eyes when anyone's dad was mentioned. Even though his was dead, he always that that he would come back and find them and hurt them again. 

It was that same fear that he saw flash across her face. That same fear that made his blood broil and made him want to punish the man that was probably asleep right now. _I could kill him, I could do it quickly and quietly, no one would know._

In a very small voice she answered, "He knows."

"Because he's the one who does it, right?"

She looked away from him then. Finding some spot on the floor very interesting. The knife no longer pointed at him, just held very tightly in her hand, which was at her side. Again, slowly, he took another step forward. She didn't make move or turn away from that spot on the floor. When he stepped forward again, her within arms length now, she looked up at him, but didn't move her hand or the knife. He could see the tears in her beautiful blue eyes again, one rolled down her left cheek and over the purplish bruise on her high cheekbones. He had his arms spread out to his sides, and slowly took another step towards her and she tensed up, her hand twitching like she wanted to raise the knife back up.

"I won't hurt you", at her skeptical look and another twitch of her hand, he stopped midstep, "I promise."

Clearly still not believing him, he decided to take a risk. 

"Lift the knife up." At her confused expression he explained. "You can hold it against my neck, and if I do something you don't like you can tell me to stop, and if I don't, which I will, you can kill me with a single movement."

Slowly, she lifted her hand and placed the blade against his throat.

"Feel a little better?" She gave a little nod, so he slowly took another step. She tensed up some more but didn't say anything. "Is it okay if I wipe your tears away?"

Again she gave a little nod, a pretty blush spreading over her cheeks. Slowly he moved his hands til the cupped her face, and with his thumbs, he gingerly wiped the tears that we're still slowly rolling down her cheeks, being extra cautious when he brushed over her bruise. She relaxed some, and even moved the knife down some so it was pressed against his chest now. 

"You're still beautiful even when you cry." At that comment she gave a snort which portrayed her disbelief, it had caught him so off-guard that he couldn't hold back his smile. Which she saw and relaxed some more dropping her had back to her side, carrying the knife with it. 

"Do you want a hug?"

She just stared at him for a moment, and he couldn't imagine anything more beautiful then her. Even her tears and that bruise couldn't put a blemish on her. _I don't understand why anyone would want to hurt her. She's gorgeous._ He almost missed it right there, but in the smallest, most softest voice he's ever heard, she said yes. And then slowly, so slowly, he gathered her up in his arms and she tucked her head underneath his chin. The knife clattered against the floor, and she gripped the front of his shirt with both of her hands, her newly formed tears wetting the front of his shirt.

"I'll never hurt you, okay?" He felt her nod her head against his chest. Her hands were practically tearing into his shirt with the death grip she had on it. Looking at the small window on the other side of the room, he realized tha it was nearly dawn and the sun would be up soon. 

"I got to leave beautiful, it's almost morning." Again she nodded into into his chest, but didn't loosen the grip she had on his shirt. In fact, he thinks she might have tightened it. Which caused him to chuckle a little bit. 

"I'll come back tomorrow", he said. Then quickly added, "if you want me too."

She looked up at him this time, her grip loosening on his shirt. "I would like that."

"Okay I will." With that, he placed a kiss in her forehead. When he pulled back to look at her, she had the blush again. Only this time she also had a small smile as well. Then he left her like that and walked to and out the front door, as quietly as he could. 

"Hey if you can't do it just give it to me and I'll open up the door."

Jason was dragged back into reality by the sound of that voice. He turned to see the Argonian standing behind him. Hadvar and Haming standing behind him. _I must've drifted off._ "No. I got it." He then went back to picking the door lock. Getting open on the first try.

"Well next time you decide to daydream, just give me a heads up so I can pitch a tent and cook as some food." Then the Argonian walked straight passed him and down the corridor. 

_I'm going to fucking murder that insolent, insignificant, sorry fucking excuse for a-_

"Hey", Jason turned back to Hadvar, "are you alright?"

"I'm fine", then he stepped aside, "after you?"

Hadvar then grabbed Haming's hand and led him though the corridor. Jason following shortly after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably do another fic about Jason and his time spent with Lyra. Leave a comment and tell me what you think.


	4. The Raiders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bryckon finds himself allied with someone dangerous while Helgen was attacked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anything you recognize is most likely owned by Bethesda.

####  Bryckon

When he saw the dragon, he ran. There was nothing else for him to do and he didn't feel like dying. So he ran to the tower and made it there with time to spare. After him, only a two more people made it in. Both of them Legionnaires. _Well just my luck._ But that was when the Orc had attacked. Driving his sword through both those guards gave him enough time to strangle the one next to him with his shackles and then take his sword. He was about to kill the other next to him, but when he turned around he wasn't there anymore. So, he killed the next one that came at him. 

He did it rather quickly too. Which kind of made him upset. The guard had come at him and stabbed his sword towards his stomach. Bad mistake. Bryckon had brought his sword down on the guards wrist, severing his hand from the rest of him. On Bryckon's next swing, the guard lost his head. 

When he surveyed the scene before him, the Orc had just killed the last soldier. By ripping his throat out with his teeth. Now that was a sight. The guards blood splatter all over the Orc's mouth and on his bare chest. Even more blood spilled on him when the guard fell forward grabbing at the Orc like it would save his life. All he managed to do was bloody the Orc more, who didn't seem to mind in the slightest bit. There was about twenty of them left, seven Stormcloaks and thirteen prisoners. Bryckon and the Orc were obviously prisoners. Easily noticeable by the rags both of them wore. Only eight of the survivors were armed with swords, and two Stormcloaks had bows. That's when they heard the pounding of feet. 

Looking to the stairs, Bryckon saw the amount of legionnaires running down. _That's gotta be about twenty of them._

Their captain was leading them down the stairs, taking in the scene before them. His face warped into one of anger, and he looked at them with hatred radiating from his being. 

"You're all gonna die painfully!"

A laugh bursted forth from the Orc at that. Then the Orc smiled and looked straight at the captain and said, "I'm gonna kill this one first." 

And he did not disappoint.

The Orc charged the captain, who was either stupid or brave enough to challenge him too and ran at him. The captain swung his sword from the right to the left in a diagonal arch. The Orc was faster though. Swinging his own sword and meeting him midair but not making contact with the other blade. He sliced the captains right hand off about halfway up his forearm, then the Orc swung down at his other side, chopping of his left arm at the shoulder. Then he grabbed his helmet, yanked it off the captions head, and wrapped his meaty hands around his face. He then proceeded to gouge his eyes out while the man screamed, and until he stopped screaming. He stopped screaming because his skull had caved in due to the pressure from the Orc's grip, which caused his head to practically explode. Then after he dropped the body, he picked up the captains helmet and put it on. Then he grabbed his sword as well, looking towards the rest of the soldiers piled at the bottom of the stairs. And he gave them a huge, blood toothed grin.

"Who's next?"

This caused the remaining soldiers to charge at him. Which then entitled the prisoners to meet them with their own charge. More people died. Mostly the soldiers did. The Orc killed the first _three_ that met him in combat in rapid succession. Not a single one standing a chance. The first one was slashed from hip to shoulder, falling shortly after. The second then had his stomach opened up with one slice, spilling his guts out for all to see. The last had his face bashed in with the pommel of the Orc's sword, then he was decapitated a moment later, his armored head rolling of his shoulders and to the floor. Bryckon did his fair share of killing too.

The first soldier that challenged him had his left leg chopped off at the knee, then his right arm at the elbow, then was left there to scream and bleed out. The next one got a sword through the gut and out the back. The next guard he came across had surveyed his surroundings before throwing his sword down and getting to his knees in an attempt at surrendering. Bryckon didn't like that at all. _Coward._ Bryckon answered his surrender with a sword through the chest, looking as the soldiers eyes filled with fear and pain. Then the light from those eyes slowly drained away as he withdrew his sword, the dead body now falling over to the floor. After, Bryckon looked at what else was going on. 

The ground was littered with dead Imperials. Prisoners and Stormcloaks picking up the dead's weapons while some prisoners took armor from the bodies. The Orc had a look of bliss across his face as he stared at the bodies around them, then at his own body which was soaked in their blood. He then proceeded up the stairs and onto the second floor while the prisoners followed him without hesitation. Bryckon following shortly after. 

When they got to the second floor it was empty. Not a single person was there. What was there was some food and mead. Which they immediately dug into. 

"Not yet."

Everyone froze at the Orc's command. Who then looked from prisoner to prisoner, then towards the stairs leading to the top of the tower. Not looking away from the stairs he said, "We need to secure the tower."

Then he ran up the stairs. After a second the prisoners began to hustle after them. 

_I don't know why. There can't be anyone else up there._ Then Bryckon sat down at one of the tables, grabbing a honeycomb off of the plate and shoving it in his mouth, chasing down with a cup of mead. He looked around again to realize he was the only one who stayed down here. That's when he heard yelling and commotion from the floor above him. Then he saw a body of a prisoner roll down the stairs. Shoving a grilled leek in his mouth, he got up from the chair he was seated in and made a dash up the stairs. He made it there in time to see a legionnaire jump off the side of the tower. _What in oblivion..._

He then looked around the top floor to see a few dead prisoners and dead Imperials. He walked by a Stormcloak that was holding her nose that appeared to have blood gushing out of it. _That's definitely broken._

He walked up to one of the prisoners that he knew before all this anarchy started. "Aye, Khijari, what happened up here?"

Khijari was a Khajiit prisoner that was stuck here before Bryckon came to Helgen. He was arrested for thievery and for murder. He constantly talked about some Thieves Guild in Riften that he was apparently a part of. No one really believes him and of the few that do, they claim that he's not good enough for the group. He claims he was the best there ever was. Until they betrayed him. According to him, he was selling skooma that he would steal from the Khajiit caravans that would travel across Skyrim. The Thieves Guild and the caravans had pacts and agreements that would not allow them to impact each others businesses. And Khijari didn't understand that stealing would ruin the caravans business. So, according to him, the guild set him up on a mission that was destined to fail. Which it did. Which is how he ended up getting caught. The murder part was for the Riften guard he killed in his attempt at escape. That's why he was in Helgen, him and Bryckon becoming fast friends in Bryckon's first months here. 

"Well isn't it my favorite Stormcloak!"

"I'm not a Stormcloak, I'm just a Nord."

Khijari shot him a wink at that. "Nowadays what's the difference?" 

He also thought that every Nord was a Stormcloak. Which has gotten other prisoners tortured and questioned because the guards would hear him call them such and believe they were Stormcloaks. After a couple beat downs for it, Bryckon was only apart of one of them, he would only call Nords Stormcloaks in private. But, like he said, there wasn't that much of a difference between the two.

"Not much honestly", Bryckon replied.

"And with that blonde hair and those blue eyes, you sure do look the part!" 

"Alright I get it. But what happened up here?"

"Well, ya see, the Orc over there, whose name is Oric by the way, decided he's king of the tower. Then we killed the remaining guards." 

"I don't remember you killing a single one of them, thief." That was another one of the prisoners here at Helgen. Another Nord whose name was Davgar. He was here for murder as well. Only he killed the man his wife was cheating on him with. He also killed his wife as well. His red hair was cut short to where it framed his face, and his green eyes narrowed at the Khajiit before them questioningly. 

"Well that was because I was supervising your work my dear Dagger", he replied with a wink.

"Davgar", the man growled. 

"I know", the feline replied with a smile and another wink. 

Just before Davgar could strangle him they were called over by the King of the tower himself. 

"You three, come here." Khijari leaped of the table he was sitting on without hesitation and made his way over to the Orc. Bryckon and Davgar hesitated some before relenting and doing to same. "How long have you three been in this prison." 

It didn't even sound like he was asking a question of them. So Bryckon wasn't going to answer him, it didn't appear Davgar was going to either. But Khijari didn't hesitate for a moment. "Three years."

Then the Orc looked to the cat's right at Bryckon, raising his eyebrow when he didn't answer right away. It took a nudge from the Khajiit next to him to get his answer out. "A year and five months."

He then turned his attention to Davgar, who Bryckon knew wasn't going to answer him. Davgar was a very prideful person and didn't take well to insult. Not only was he prideful but he was big as well, and equally able to defend his pride if it need be. Realizing he wasn't getting an answer, the Orc stepped up to Davgar, coming face to face with the Nord. They were the same height, both around seven foot. Both were built and could easily kill a man with their bare hands. He's even seen Davgar bend one of the cell bars when one of the guards made a remark about the Nord's daughter, who lived in Riverwood. Bryckon then tensed up sensing that there might be a fight starting soon. Apparently Khijari thought the same because he answered for him. 

"He's been here three months." 

Still standing in each others faces, he saw the Orc smile. Then take a step back sizing up Davgar as if examining him.

"You know what Nord, I like you", Oric said, "what's your name?"

"Davgar." 

"Well Davgar, I'm going to make you my second-in-command." At that all three of them had a look of surprise across their faces. 

"Second-in-command?", Davgar questioned. 

"Yes, and I need two captains, since you know these people more then me, any suggestions?"

"Actually, yeah I do, these two right here", he replied with a tilt of his head. 

"Why these two?"

"Bryckon's a Nord and knows these lands well like me. He was also apart of a group led by Hajvarr Iron-Hands. It's a bandit group that stays at the White River Watch by Whiterun. A good bandit group too."

This caused the Orc to look at Bryckon. "Is this true."

"Yes it is. It's a good group with a good hangout. A hangout that's filled with goods from previous raids. It also has a good view of Whiterun, the White River, and the roads around it."

"Not bad, we may have to pay them a visit then. Whatabout the other one."

"The feline was apart of the Thieves Guild in Riften and-", he was cut off by the Orc who took a threatening step towards Khijari.

"I share no love for thieves", he growled out. 

"Me either but he's good at what he does. Probably the best thief I know. He's also good at getting information, that's how we knew the prisoner caravans where coming here to begin with. Trust me when I say he's a good pick. It'll also be better if he's with us then someone else."

The Orc then scratched his chin in thought. "Alright then, sounds good. You guys are the two captains as of right now." 

Feeling safe to talk now, Khijari said, "Now all we need is a name of this group of prisoners."

Turning around to face the castle that was in ruins and burning he said, "The Raiders. We're the Raiders."

Khijari turned to face the rest of the unruly prisoners and clapped his hands together. "The Raiders, I like it."

_Another group I'll soon have to leave._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and tell me what you think.


	5. The Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason tries to escape Helgen, meeting more people along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anything you recognize is probably owned by Bethesda.

#### Jason

"Is this true?"

"Maybe."

"So you're not a Stormcloak are you?"

"Obviously not Ralof."

Ralof then turned around to Hadvar who was being held up by two Stormcloaks. The wound on his temple bleeding but not as bad as it once was. With a threatening look aimed at Hadvar, Ralof turned back around and resumed his interrogation.

_Just kill me already._

"Then who are you?"

"Does it really matter who I am. I think we should be leaving instead of-"

"I don't care what you think. I need to know why you're here. It's important."

_Why is it so important?_

"Ralof", Hadvar said, "I don't think it means what you think it does." That caused Ralof to spin on the man, a look of defiance and even some desperation on his face. 

"It could be him Hadvar. You grew up on the same legends I did."

"Exactly. Legends Ralof, nothing more."

_Legends?_

"Was that dragon out there a legend to you. Because I'm sure that I heard people screaming because they were getting burned alive."

"I know I know, I saw the dragon, but-"

"Then what more proof do you need. The legend says when the dragons come back, the Dragonborn will come back too. Stop trying to deny it."

"I'm not trying to deny anything, but I don't think he's who you're talking about."

_What in oblivion is going on?_

"What are you guys talking about?"

That caused almost everyone in the room to look at Jason. The Stormcloaks glaring while the others just stared. _Well now I'm going to die._

"Don't worry about it Imperial", Hrokan, one of the three Stormcloaks, said, "worry if you're going to live over not."

_Yup I'm going to kill him. Right after I kill that fucking Argonian when I find him._

Jason, Hadvar, Haming, and the Argonian had followed the corridor they left the torture chamber in til it ended. Well, more like until it collapsed. They hid quickly in one of the side rooms so they wouldn't get crushed by the debris. Only to find out that the door was then stuck because of the cave in of the corridor. Finding themselves in one of the storage rooms that was used for the mining materials, they each grabbed a pick axe and went to work on a nearby wall. The wall gave in pretty easily, probably considering the fact that the cave in had also crushed the support for it. So in a little under fifteen minutes, they were out if the room. Out of the entire castle if you think about it. 

Their newly made doorway led them into a cave system below Helgen. Where they found others there as well. Unfortunately those others were legionnaires, and Jason's group was dressed up like Stormcloaks. All except little Haming. 

They tried to convince the other group that they were, in fact, legionnaires as well. It didn't go so well. After they killed the other three legionnaires, they set on a path through the caves. Which they then came across a group of skeevers. After exterminating those, they continued through the cave until they came into an opening. 

"Well well well, look what we got here boys."

Which turned out to not be an opening. The light the mistook for daylight was actually torchlight. Where they met a group of bandits that outnumbered them seven to three. Everyone baring there steel as soon as the realized what was happening. Looking back on it now, Jason really wished he killed that Argonian.

The reptile in question had apparently thought they could be bargained with. He had hit Hadvar in his right temple with the pommel of his sword, knocking the legionnaire out cold. Then he grabbed Haming and held a dagger to his throat. 

"I'll make you guys a deal."

The group of bandits laughed at the prospect. Then one of them, a Nord wearing steal armor from head to toe with a steel greatsword across his back, shushed them. 

"What kind of deal are we talking about?"

"I'll give you the boy and these two, if you let me live."

Again, a chorus of laughter rose up from bandits. Then the steel clad warrior stepped closer to them, with a smile across his scarred face, and said, "And why do I want them?"

"Well really, I'm just trying to help you guys out."

Raising an eyebrow, the bandit leader asked, "oh really?"

At that, the Argonian smirked. "Yes really." He then took a piece of paper out of his pocket and threw it to the bandit. 

_Like that's gonna work._

Picking up and unfolding the paper, the bandit laughed again. "What's this?"

The Argonian opened his mouth to say something, but one of the other bandits beat him to it. 

"I know what that is."

Everyone turned to look at him, and the Argonian's smirk grew even larger. 

The leader beckoned him to the front of the group and asked him what it was. Then the bandit leaned to whisper something into his ear, which caused his eyes to widen and his hands to tremble a bit. Folding the paper back up he threw it back at the Argonian. Who made no attempt to pick it up. Just saying, "No, keep it, it's yours."

The bandit leader shook his head vigorously in reply. "I don't want it. I don't want any of it. Take it with you and leave."

The reptile then let go of Haming and walked straight pass the paper, not bothering to even look at it. He walked straight up to the leader with a smile and said, "Nice doing business with you."

The bandit gave a shaky nod and then watched him continue on walking I through the cave. Only moving to drink a whole bottle of mead when he was out of sight. 

_What in oblivion just happened?_

That's when the leader turned his gaze on Jason, a furious expression on his ugly face. "I have to kill something after that."

But he never got to. Because then an arrow flew over Jason's head and buried itself into the leader's eye socket. Causing the man to claw at his face and then crumble to the floor. That's when the Stormcloaks came in. Killing the rest if the bandits and taking Jason and Hadvar prisoner. Not long after that is when the Nord came in. Wearing Stormcloak armor and not knowing anything of himself or why he was here. He didn't even know his name.

#### (No Name)

He didn't understand what was going on. He didn't know who these people were or what they were talking about. 

"What are you guys talking about?" Well, at least he wasn't the only one.

He turned to look at the man that voiced the question. _An Imperial?_ He's not sure what it was, but it felt right. Trying to put all these thoughts together was killing him. _An Imperial. From Cyrodil. And I'm a Nord. From Skyrim. Like them._

He then turned back to scan the other people in the room.

Stormcloaks they called themselves. All dressed in blue armor and fur. He had seen more of them on his way down here. He had found a dead one and took the clothing of of him and continued through the keep. Purposely avoiding everyone, he made his way through the castle and down to the dungeons. Which led him to a cave which he gladly followed. Anything to get away from that _thing_ that was outside. But as he made his way through the cave, he came upon this group of people. 

At first he was a little nervous because of the situation. These 'Stormcloaks' had two of there own as prisoners and there was another group of people, that were all dressed differently, laying dead on the floor as well. Plus there was a little kid here too. It was a strange bunch, but he really didn't have time to think on it. Because the next thing he knew, they had him on his knees with his hands behind his head and started to question him. After telling them that he didn't remember anything besides waking up on one of the prisoner transports and almost getting burned to death by a dragon. 

Apparently they didn't like those answers. But then the Stormcloak that was questioning him, Ralof he believes, started talking about legends and now he had no idea what they were talking about. It's a good thing that he's not the only one that has no clue about what they're talking about. 

"Don't worry about that Imperial. Worry about whether you're going to live or not." That was one of the other Stormcloaks. Anger quickly flashed over the Imperial's face before it become neutral again. 

"If I were you I'd be more worried about your life then mine", was his reply. Which only caused the Stormcloak to laugh. "I don't think you're in any position to make threats."

"I wouldn't be to sure."

That's when the Stormcloak walked up to him, causing the Imperial to tense up. The Stormcloak then punched the Imperial in the jaw. _Now that had to hurt._

Slowly sitting back up, the Imperial spit whatever blood the was in his mouth onto the Stormcloaks face. Who quickly filled with rage and made to strike him again. But wasn't able to.

The Imperial ducked under the punch throw at his face. Then lunged at the Stormcloak, picking him up by his legs and slamming him onto the cave floor. Which he then proceeded to throw punches at his face once he had was straddling over him. Punch after punch connected with some part of the soldiers face until the Imperial was pulled off of him by two other soldiers. The bloody mess of a Stormcloak then picked himself up off the ground. His eye was bleeding profusely. So was his nose which appeared to be broken. And his mouth was too when he spat that blood out. On somewhat wobbly feet, he got ready to charge at his opponent. That's when their leader decided to intervene. 

"Hrokan!" Said man then turned to look at Ralof was anger clearly shown across his face, but he said nothing. "Go get yourself cleaned up."

Then the bloody Nord turned around and walked to a stream that ran through the cave. 

_Well that was something._

"Hey." Realizing the question was meant for him, he turned towards Ralof. 

"Yeah?"

"What do you want us to call you?" _What is he talking about?_

His confusion must've shown across his face because then he elaborated. 

"Well we just can't call you 'Nord' can we? So what do you want your name to be?"

He thought about that. He didn't really have an idea as to what he wanted his name to be. "I have no clue."

This caused some of them to laugh. Then one of the Stormcloaks said, "Don't worry, if you don't like it, it's only for the rest of your life!"

_Well then. No pressure._

"Uhmm, any suggestions?"

"Hryckon", was distinguishable out of the chorus of names that filled the air. 

"Hryckon it is then."

Ralof smiled at that. "Not a bad choice. Now Hryckon, let's get out of here. Maybe you can join the Stormcloaks with us." 

He heard Hadvar scoff at that. "Why would he want to join a failing rebellion." 

Ralof just laughed at that. "Our _revolution_ is going to be a great success Hadvar."

"You know you're losing the war right?"

Again Ralof laughed. "We're not and even if we were, losing doesn't mean we loss."

"But you will", was Hadvar's quick reply, "where are we going anyway?"

"Why my brother, we are going to Riverwood!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and tell me what you think.


	6. Riverwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New characters are introduced into the storyline while old characters move through their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ***WARNING* Rape is a major factor in this chapter.** Everything you recognize is most likely owned by Bethesda.

#### Lyliana

He came for her again. He always did. Sometimes twice a night. Still, she fought him. She always did. And he would always repay her for it. The left side of her face was swollen and bruised. The right side was little better and not as swollen. Her left eye was swollen closed. So only one green eye poked out from under the blonde hair which had fallen over her face. He chuckled as she stood up to fight him back.

"I'm surprised you can still stand." Honestly, she was too. He was never gentle. Always rough. One night he had knocked her unconscious and then proceeded to take her. She knew because she had woken up to the pain and the blood pooled between her legs. "Looks like I've been to gentle with you then."

She slowly backed into the far corner of the room, putting as much distance between them as possible. Her hands curled into fists, waiting to strike. 

"Come on girl, might as well as lay down and take it. Maybe you'll enjoy it some." Laughing at his own joke he slowly, but confidently, walked towards her. "But then again, I do love a good fight." 

Once he was within arms length, her left hand struck out towards his face. Only to be caught by his hand, which he then used to pull her body towards him and lick at her neck while his left arm snaked it's way around her waist to hold her flat against him.

Her right arm had gotten pinned between their bodies. The only other thing she could think of was worth a shot. So, she reared her head back and brought it straight into his nose. She heard a satisfying crunch while her own senses dulled from the pain of the hit. A menacing growl was all she heard before something collided with the side of her head. Knocking her unconscious and leaving her body slumped In his arms. 

She was in and out of it for most of the time he was there. One time she came to while he was rutting against her and he must've seen her because she was hit across the face and knocked out yet again. The next time she came to, he was already done and rearranging his clothes. Then, the door opened and someone called him out, which he then left, slamming the door behind him. Once again leaving her in darkness.

#### Torgrynn

_He's not gonna' be happy this._

When he finally approached the door, he hesitated for a moment. _I could just leave too. Say I left with them but then head out on my own._ Quickly shaking that thought from his head he turned back to the door. Slowly he raised his hand and knocked on the door. 

No response. 

_That means he's not finished. Oh man he's gonna' kill me._

Running a hand through his long blonde hair, he gave a shaky sigh and knocked again. Still no response came back. Raising his hand to knock once more, the door abruptly swung open leaving him face-to-face with the Orc.

"There better be a good reason that you felt the need to interrupt me."

"There was sir."

"Well...get on with it!"

Steadying himself, Torgrynn took a deep breath. "Bryckon and his lil' group took half of the supplies and left."

The Orc's face slowly changed from a scowl into a shallow grin which sent Torgrynn's nerves shivering up and down his spine. 

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yes good," the Orc said stepping out from the room and into the hall.

"Uhmm...excuse me sir but how is that any good for us?"

The Orc walked by him not even glancing back. "Because I always liked a good hunt." Then he stopped at the end of the hallway and turned around. "I want her bound, gagged and ready to move because she comes with us."

"Yes sir!"

The Orc opened the door and left the hallway, not before letting a deep chuckle escape him. Which left Torgrynn to handle the lady. _I always liked pretty ladies._

"Want me to move her?"

Torgrynn turned back to see another prisoner standing by the door to her room. _When did he get there?_

"I mean you can get her if you want but I'm sure you got more important stuff to handle."

_Not really. Well, at least it won't be my fault if anything happens to her._ "If anything happens to her it's your ass."

"Got it."

Torgrynn turned around to leave, turning back after a few steps. "And oh, I almost forgot, don't touch her."

Seeing the shaky nod the Imperial gave back to him filled him with some satisfaction. _If they're scared of you, they won't betray you._

#### Tiberius

After the Nord turned and left the hallway, he slowly turned back to the door. Walking up to it and gripping the handle with his right hand. Only, when he went to open it, he found that he couldn't. He froze up, thinking about how much she would hate him if she saw him now. _After I failed her._ But he couldn't just leave her here. So, he he gripped the handle harder and ripped the door open a little more forcefully than he wanted to. Making a loud screeching sound as the door's hinges speaking against each other. But nothing could drown out the sounds he heard. 

She was sobbing into her arms. Her body curled into a ball in the corner of the room. Instantly, his entire being shattered. He ran to her, only stopping to crouch down right in front of her. 

"Lyliana."

She tensed up as she heard him. Her sobbing stopping only to leave behind a quietness that was threatening to overtake the both of them. But slowly, slowly, she lifted her head too look at him. Once her green eye made contact with his blue ones, another sob escaped her throat before she threw herself into his arms. 

"Tiberius!"

He scooped her up into his arms, her small form being engulfed by his larger one. Her face burying itself into his shoulder while her left arm wrapped around. Her right went straight to the front of his thin, prisoner, shirt. Where she could feel the necklace and the ring that hung on his neck.

"He took it." She said in a small voice.

"Took what sweetheart?"

"My ring." 

"It's okay, we'll get you another one once we get back to Cyrodiil."

She lifted her head up to make eye contact with him. "We're going home?"

"Yes love, of course we are."

#### Hryckon

"Well Hryckon, welcome to Riverwood. The best lil' village in all of Skyrim. Maybe even Tamriel itself!" 

Hryckon turned from Ralof to look at the small village before him. It was nice. _I guess._ He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned back to Ralof. 

"My sister and her husband run the lumber mill here. She should be over here somewhere. She'll help us on our adventure and get us started on our trip Windhelm." 

"Windhelm?" 

"Yup, Windhelm. That's where we'll meet High King Ulfric if he made it out of Helgen alive." 

"He's not High King yet Ralof." 

Ralof turned to Hadvar with a wide grin on his face. "Oh but he will be. We both know the Stormcloaks are winning this war." 

"You Stormcloaks couldn't win a fight if the whole of the Imperial army used wooden swords." 

"You know Hadvar, denial doesn't look good on you."

"Whatever, I'm going to talk to Alvor."

"Tell your uncle that I said hi."

"He's never liked you."

"I know."

"C'mon Jason."

The Imperial begins to move forward with Hadvar when Hrokan grabs him by the arm. "No no no, not you Imperial."

Hadvar looks at Ralof, "He's an Imperial soldier. He's coming with me."

"Let 'em go Hrokan."

And Hrokan does. Only, right after Hrokan spits onto the Imperials face. Then Hryckon hears Ralof mutter, "shit", from beside him. Hryckon focuses back onto them just in time to see the Imperial's fist make contact with Hrokan's stomach, causing him to keel over. Only to be met by a knee to the face, bringing the Nord back up to a slouching position where we is met once again with a punch to the face, causing the Nord to fall to the ground. The other Stormcloaks rush to their friend while a few turn on Jason, swords drawn. 

"Hold." 

Ralof's voice cuts through the scene, and the crowd forming in front of Riverwood. 

"Hrokan clearly deserved that, now pick him off the floor and take him to Gerdur's house. I'm going to check and see if she's at the mill." With that, they pick up the fallen Nord and drag him through the gate and around a building to the right. While Ralof walks through the gate with Hadvar at his side. "Well Hadvar, if you have more people like him on your side, you guys might stand a chance." 

Hadvar just shakes his head and continues walking toward a house with a forge outside it, Jason following close behind. 

"Well Hryckon, let's go meet my sister. It's been awhile since I last saw her. Hopefully she didn't go all soft on me."

And the only thing Hryckon can do is follow him, across a little wooden bridge and to the other side of the mill. 

"Gerdur! Is that you!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and tell me what you think.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave comments and tell me what you think.


End file.
